Strong Men Crumble
by pennylayne
Summary: Kid Blink meets the most beautiful girl he's ever seen. It seems they're made for each other, but she's got a secret. Blink learns the hard way how painful love can be.
1. Chapter 1

It was any other day in any other person's eyes: newsboys crowded the streets, screaming headlines, deceiving, plotting, forming angles on things that office workers would never even dream of. It was nearing the end of the summer, and the sun was putting in a last-ditch effort to terrorize the workforce of the streets of New York before heading south with the birds. Life was going about as usual, the streets crowded with people and carriages and horses, all cursing the afternoon in their own way.

In the midst of this, a boy stood holding his very last copy of the afternoon edition of _The World_. He took off his ratty brown hat and wiped his brow with it, longing for the shade of his lodging house and a cool bath. He hated heat, hated sun, hated sweat, especially since it would get under his eye patch and, out of decency, he couldn't remove the patch in public. He hated life in general on days like this when the sun was relentless, and it was hot even long after nightfall.

The young man replaced his cap over his messy blond hair, heaving an exasperated sigh and calling out the actual headline. No use in drawing a crowd when you've only got one pape left. Few people paid any attention to him as he hollered, only those whose heads turned as his tired voice erupted beside their ears. Anyone who was interested had already read the news by now, and those who hadn't were too hot and tired to stop and take pity on a street rat.

He'd sold wonderfully today, though most of his friends told him his optimism would only disappoint him when he took ten, twenty more papers than the rest of them. And here he was, on his very last one. He didn't _need_ to sell it, he just refused to give the other newsies the satisfaction of seeing him come home with even one paper unsold. Didn't anyone on this street understand competition? Couldn't just one person have the kindness to help him out?

"Last paper of the day?" The voice, with or without its melodic, feminine tone, was music to his ears. He spun around and smiled in surprise at the features before him: a pretty, soft face, bright smile, dark brown hair and eyes the color of the expensive whiskey he'd seen once in Pulitzer's office. All this was clothed in what was undoubtedly the height of fashion... and expense.

"Yeah," he replied, hastily taking off his cap. "Care to take it off my hands, miss?"

"Well, if you're _desperate,_" she said absently, drawing a grateful laugh out of the boy. "All I've got is a nickel, but you can keep the change." She placed the coin in his hand in exchange for the newspaper, skimming through it as she stood there. "Pretty dull headlines. How on earth did you survive until your last paper?"

"Creative thinking," he said with a grin, tapping his temple. "You gotta be good at it if you're gonna be a newsie." Shoving the coin in his pocket, he looked her over. Looked at her hand, noting the absence of a ring. Today must have been his lucky day, selling so well _and_ finding a girl who was both drop-dead gorgeous and unspoken for.

She must have noticed him staring, because she giggled softly. Just the kind of laugh a girl like her would have. "Are you okay?" Good _Lord_, if this wasn't the most attractive boy she'd ever seen, eye patch and all.

"Huh?" He blinked twice, shaking his head. "Yeah... um, yeah."

"Well, thank you for the paper. Maybe I'll see you again tomorrow?" She turned and took a few steps down the street.

"Wait!"

The girl turned to see him standing in the same spot, blushing and twisting his cap in his hands. "Don't s'pose you'd like to take a walk with me?"

The shock in her eyes nearly shattered his heart. Why in the hell would a rich girl like her want to be seen in public with a _newsie_? She'd already spent too long talking to him...

She folded the paper and tucked it into the pocket of her dress. "I'd love to."

The one visible blue eye widened in shock, then slid quickly back into an easy grin. He offered his arm to her and she took it with a smile, and they headed down the street together.

* * *

**A/N: I hope you're liking it so far. I expect to have the second chapter up tonight, but if not tonight, tomorrow. I'm about halfway done with it. Anyhow, please ponder that lovely purple button to your left there for a moment, and then realize the magic that is behind the beauty. :) In other words, R&R, please and thank you! -Layne**


	2. Chapter 2

"So, what do they call you?"

"Evelyn P--" she stopped herself, realizing who she was talking to, though he had no clue.

"Evelyn P?" The boy laughed; he wasn't used to rich girls stuttering... though he wasn't used to rich girls at all, really.

"I'm sorry. I'm used to reciting my whole name." She smiled secretly to herself. "Evelyn Patricia Harris." She curtsied in good humor, grinning up at him. "Evie for short. What do they call you?"

"Kid Blink. Blink for short." He batted his good eye at her in a demonstration as to why that was his name. He led her down a street to avoid both the lodging house and Tibby's, the Manhattan newsies' restaurant of choice. His fellow newsies weren't going to see him with a girl like this, at least not yet. "Well, Evelyn Patricia Harris, how is it that you ain't got someone waiting at home for you?"

Evie laughed. "I do, but just the housekeepers..."

"Just the housekeepers." Blink smirked. "What about your folks?"

She sighed quietly. "They're in London, will be until late September, early October. For now, it's just me and the staff of the house... and my grandfather when he comes to check in on me."

"You don't seem to happy about it."

"I'm not, really, I miss my parents, and my grandfather has the tendency to be an ass, and a little psychotic." Evie rolled her eyes and sighed. "What about you? What about your family, aren't they waiting at home for you?"

Blink grinned. "Only family I got ain't blood. If I'm late getting' home, it's nothin' to worry about." As she eyed him in confusion, he laughed lightly. "I live in the Newsboys Lodging House. We's got a curfew, but if I'm late they'll leave the window open for me and I can go up the fire escape. Got several hours before curfew, though... most of the boys're probably still at Tibby's."

"So you don't have anyone to look after you? What if you get hurt, or get in trouble? What if you just don't come home one night?"

"We got Kloppmann, he owns the place. He takes real good care of us... and we look out for each other. 'F one of us ain't there one night, everybody just assumes we's stayin' someplace else."

Evie just looked at him and smiled. His grammar was terrible, his accent thicker than she was used to, and he would be seen as a worthless cripple in her society, but he was so, _so_ charming. He had the kind of smile that produced a "skirt-over-your-head" reaction, as the girls at her school put it. Even with the eye patch, he had a kind face and a sweet, playful gleam in his eye. His personality, so far, was just the kind she'd looked for her whole life, in a friend, maybe in a lover... though she'd never thought of the latter until now.

They walked in silence for a few blocks, until they came to a small Italian restaurant on the other side of town. Blink stopped and smiled at her. "Hungry?"

Evie glanced in the window and grinned. This was the kind of place she'd always wanted to go, but her parents would never allow her to "stoop to this level of so-called 'society.'" She nodded. "Starving."

The unlikely pair sat down to their pasta and breadsticks, served by a burly man with a rolling Italian accent and a very friendly demeanor. Blink knew him by way of his buddy Racetrack, as this was one of his favorite places in Manhattan. Evie found it stereotypical and utterly _fantastic_.

She looked down and saw only one fork. This baffled her just long enough for Blink to catch on. "One dish, one fork. This place ain't real big on mulliple-course meals." Evie grinned at his sweet little mispronunciation. _All part of the charm,_ she mused.

"Sorry," she mumbled with a blush and scooped up some of her pasta. As she ate it, she nearly cried. "This is _so_ good... I can't believe I've never had this before."

Blink laughed, partly in shock. "Never had Italian food? Jeeze, what kinda sheltered life do you lead?"

The restaurant door swung open and loud, boisterous laughter could be heard ringing against the walls. A short Italian boy entered, accompanied by a darker-skinned boy with a mass of brown curls on his head. Blink sighed and shook his head, hoping they wouldn't see him. But, as usual, his hopes were shattered in the blink of an eye... _slight_ pun intended.

"Blinky! How's it goin', pal?" The boys rushed over, the shorter one playfully punching him in the shoulder. "What're you doin'... hey, who's this pretty lady?"

Blink looked slightly frustrated, but introduced them anyway. "Fellas, this is Evelyn Patricia Harris," he said with a wink at her. "Evie, this is Racetrack."

Racetrack wiggled his eyebrows and kissed her hand. "Pleasure, miss."

Evie giggled. "Indeed." She looked expectantly at the other boy, then at Blink.

"And this is Mush."

Mush simply smiled and nodded curtly. "How'd'ya do."

"Boy, Blink, you oughta bring her by the lodgin' house when you'se done here. Sure the fellas would all love to meet 'er." Racetrack grinned at Evie, which made her smile and made Blink feel a little sick to his stomach.

"I dunno if that'd be such a good idea, Race..."

Evie straightened, not about to let another person make decisions for her. "Actually, I can't think of anything I'd rather do tonight."

* * *

**A/N: Sooo, what do you guys think? I know the chapter's kinda weak and has very little happening but I really needed to establish a relationship aaaand get Evie incorporated well into the story. But I succeeded in posting a second chapter today! VICTORY IS MINE! Anyhow. Please R&R. Now I have to go work on my other fic... which you should read as well. (end shameless plug here.) -Layne**


	3. Chapter 3

Saturday nights were generally rowdy in the Duane Street Lodging House. The older boys would break out their hidden liquor stashes and gather downstairs in the common room for a poker game after they had put the little ones to bed. Tonight, however, the boys were trying to remain on their best behavior. They had a _lady_ in their presence.

Blink and Racetrack had succeeded in teaching Evie to play poker. Perhaps a little too well, they thought, as she raked in her winnings for the third game in a row.

"Son of a _bitch_!" A boy named Skittery threw down his cards and pushed his chair back from the table. "I wasn't lettin' her win, neither!"

Blink grinned at Evie and cocked an eyebrow at her over the glass he was taking a drink of whiskey from. She grinned back.

"My grandfather taught me. He says it's unladylike to play poker, but we play every once in a while."

"Unladylike. Pfft." Racetrack scoffed and took a rather large swig of whiskey.

"You'se just sore 'cuz the only person can beat you at poker's a _girl_," Blink tossed his cards into the middle of the table and glanced out the window. "It's gettin' dark, Evie, I oughta get you home."

* * *

They walked in the warm night air, laughing over the night's events and how Racetrack had gone from being a charmer and a flirt to being a cursing, angry, sore loser.

"Tonight was fun. I'm glad I decided to come with you."

"Me too." Blink smiled and patted the arm that was linked through his. "We don't have girls around real often, I'm surprised the fellas even knew what to do with themselves."

The pair laughed, and then they walked in silence for a few minutes.

"So, 'Kid Blink' can't be yourreal name." Evie looked at him, examining his face, waiting for a reaction.

"It's real enough." Blink shrugged. "Ain't the name me mudda gave me, but it's good enough for me. Most of us guys ain't real big on stayin' in any kinda contact with what useta be our lives."

"What _did_ your mother call you?"

"Uh-uh." Blink smirked, shaking his head. "That's a secret."

Evie opened her mouth to protest, but closed it quickly, realizing she had secrets as well. All she did was nod her head, and stop at the gates to her house. "This is my house."

Blink looked through the gates at the huge fortress erupting out of the ground behind them. "Jesus," he said, almost breathlessly. He turned to her and smiled. "Thanks."

"For what?" Evie cocked her head, a knowing smile on her face. She just didn't want to go in yet.

"For not shruggin' me off like some street rat."

She grinned and kissed his cheek. "Save me a paper tomorrow." And with that, she went through the gates and into the house as a princess to her castle.

* * *

**A/N: I know this chapter is a little short, but I felt it was important in building the story... especially the ending. The LH scene wasn't all I'd hoped it to be, but I figured, less is more, you know? I didn't want it to become tedious. Blink and Evie's relationship is blooming quite well, I think... and to clear things up, no, Evie isn't evil in the sense that you may be thinking. That's not her secret. :) It's something bigger. **

**The next chapter I may have skip ahead a little. But I'm not sure. I haven't decided how important it is to see the two of them developing on a day-to-day basis versus a larger-scale type thing. But some important twists and turnsto the story are coming!**

**Please let me know what you think! -Layne**

* * *


	4. Chapter 4

Days passed like hours and hours like minutes when Blink and Evie were together. Every day it seemed like there was a brief flash of time between their opening of, "Care to buy a pape, miss?" and their closing of, "Save me a paper tomorrow." There were flashes of light and sound and motion at high speed around them, like riding in a carriage drawn by horses in a hurry.

There were days, however, when time stood still for the unlikely couple. Days like this one, which they'd spent sitting on a dock in Brooklyn, dangling their feet over the edge. They shared a bread roll, discussing their respective lives, and their differences and similarities.

They both, for example, were tied down by money. Blink, with his complete lack of it, could barely keep himself alive sometimes. Some nights he'd have to spend sleeping, hidden behind trash cans, in a freezing alleyway, bumming a few cents from his friends to sell enough newspapers to hopefully get a roof over his head the next night. Evie, on the other hand, had more money than any sane person would know what to do with, and her father and grandfather reminded her of that on a daily basis. Money was everything in today's world, they told her, and anyone with less than she was completely unacceptable as a suitor.

Family, though, was one of those issues on which they were polar opposites. Blink would have given anything for a decent family, would sell his soul to the devil to have a mother who loved him. Evie thought her relations to be among the most despicable beings on the planet, and would have killed for the freedom of Blink's life.

"How did you end up an orphan?"

Blink looked at her, then turned his face up to the sky and sighed. "Jesus, Evie, that's like askin' where babies come from. Do I really gotta explain the facts'a life to ya?"

"No, Blink... I mean, I know _how_," she rolled her eyes. "But how did it _happen_?" She laid her hand on his, a gesture that made him want to curl up in her arms and also run away, all at the same time.

"Well, I was gonna have a li'l sister once. My ma, she was just 'bout ready to pop, and we was all so excited. I was ten, I think." He took a deep breath. "Anyhow, I come home from school one day and she's breathin' all heavy and cryin' an' stuff. My pop weren't home from the factory yet, so she sent me to go get 'im, tell 'im it was _time_, y'know?"

Evie smiled a little and interlaced her fingers with his, over the top of his hand. Blink's shoulders sank a little.

"My pop and I stopped and got the doctor on our way back from the factory. We get to the house, an' it's all quiet." He paused a moment, his breath shaky and uneven. Closing his eye for a moment, he collected himself. "Doc said my sister was... um... stillborn. Said Ma had a annurysm, or whatever." The word was _aneurysm_, but Evie wasn't about to correct him. He blinked back tears and shook his head. "Weren't nobody with 'er. Died all alone."

"I'm sorry, Blink." She squeezed his hand, laying her head on his shoulder. "What... nevermind."

"What about my pop?" He seemed to read her mind. "See, Evie, I ain't exactly a _orphan_ orphan. My pop kinda lost it after my ma went. We, uh... butted heads a lot. So I just took off one day."

"You just _left_? Don't you think he's worried about you?"

"Never came lookin' for me, and I never looked back." Blink shrugged. "Some parents ain't all about their kids, I guess."

They sat in silence a few minutes, each pondering the river with more intensity than it deserved.

Finally, as the sun began to fade from the late-August sky, Blink said what had needed to be said for weeks. It required no words as he leaned in and kissed her.

* * *

It was still twilight as the pair journeyed back to Manhattan. A few blocks from the lodging house, they ran into Racetrack, who seemed abnormally delighted to see them. Racetrack was accompanied by none other than Spot Conlon, self-proclaimed King of Brooklyn and quite possibly the toughest newsie in the world. They chatted a while, until Race finally laid his proposal down on the table.

"Evie, I'd like to challenge you to a poker re-match. See, I's goin' easy on ya the first time we played." Spot and Blink both laughed heartily. Racetrack Higgins went easy on no one, lady or not.

"You're on, Racetrack. One game, and we'll see who's going easy on who."

One game had turned into seven. Blink, Mush, Spot, Skittery, and Jack had all long since folded, but Racetrack and Evie sat glaring at one another over their hands. The spectators watched in silent anticipation, knowing the outcome of this game _had _to be good. Beads of sweat trickled down the infamous gambler's forehead, and the elegant Evie bit her lip in determination. Minutes passed slowly, agonizingly, until the unstoppable Anthony "Racetrack" Higgins said the two words no one ever thought they'd hear out of his mouth.

"I..." he sighed, hanging his head in shame and tossing his cards carelessly onto the table, "...fold."

"Oh, sweet baby Jesus!" Spot cried, leaping out of his chair and toasting his comrades. "It's a miracle!"

Blink grinned, and before Evie could even lay her hand down, he had tilted her back and planted a big, wet, passionate kiss on her mouth, accompanied by the whoops and cheers of all the boys in the room.

Even Racetrack, in his defeat, was grinning. "You better snatch that girl up before I do, Blink. She's worth it if she can beat me."

As their lips parted and their eyes met, the deafening noise in the room was little more than a buzz in Blink's ears. And at that moment, he realized he was in love.

* * *

**A/N: I'm sorry the last chapter was so short! This one's a bit longer, and has a little more oomph to it. :) Hope you like it. It is a bit mushy.**

**I'd really like some feedback on Blink's story. There will be more added to it later, but I'm anxious to know what everyone thinks.**

**In the next couple of chapters, you can expect to see part of the reason this is rated M. :) Enjoy! -Layne**

**P.S. Mucho thanks, REVIEWER who shall remain nameless so it's not a shoutout but you know who you are! You get your very own drunken Racetrack, to be seen soon:) Aren't you thrilled?**


	5. Chapter 5

"Miss Evelyn," Evie's personal maid began as she helped her out of her corset, "I seen you kissin' that boy at the front gate."

"Louise, don't start." Letting her breath escape after the boning released her, she felt as if she could crumple to the floor and fall asleep right there. "It's none of your business."

"Your granddaddy ain't gonna like you seein' him." Louise helped her into her nightshift. "If he finds out, your daddy's gonna hear about it when he gets home, an' all _hell_ is gonna break loose."

"I love him."

"You'se just thinkin' that 'cuz you ain't found a decent fella yet."

"Goodnight, Louise." Evie closed the door and brushed her hair out, tying it back and staring at herself a moment in the mirror. Louise was right; her grandfather would have a fit if he ever found out about her and Blink. But she just didn't care.

She pulled on her sturdiest slippers, opening her bedroom door to hear Louise close her own in the servants' wing. Louise was always the last to go to bed.

Evie grabbed a light jacket and stepped out onto her balcony. Climbing down the lattice as she did when she was a child and read about in the romantic fairy tales, she scurried out the front gates and headed to her destination.

* * *

"Blink."

He stirred, hating when dreams woke him. He realized he'd fallen asleep in his clothes again, and his suspenders were twisted. Grumbling, he found a more comfortable spot for his head on the pillow and tried to fall asleep again.

"_Blink_." He turned over to face the window beside his bed, seeing the silhouette of a girl.

"What the hell?" His voice was rough, thick from sleep. "Evie?" He sat up, rubbing his eye and yawning.

"Come with me." She headed up the fire escape and onto the roof, where he followed a few steps behind.

"Evie, what's going on? Are you okay? It's late, what are you doing here?" He looked her over, her thin nightshift leaving little, if anything, to a teenage boy's imagination. "Did something happen?"

She shook her head, stepping to him and wrapping her arms about his neck. She kissed him, long and soft, and he had all the answers he needed.

He deepened the kiss, pulling her close to him and letting his hands explore the thin cloth separating skin from skin. He knew what was coming as she unhitched his suspenders and allowed himself to be pulled down with her to the cold, hard cement below them.

Blink took her with the little experience he'd had, watching her face carefully as she winced from the pain. She hadn't been expecting it to hurt as much as it did at first, but the pain soon melted away.

She pulled his face to hers, curling her fingers in the dirty-blond hair she loved so much. Evie sighed contentedly as he covered her face and neck in soft, sweet kisses, shed silent tears as he whispered.

"I love you, Evelyn."

"I love you, too."

It was over sooner than either of them would have liked, and Blink relaxed on top of her, resting his head in the crook of her neck and panting. His hands, balled so tightly in the skirt of her shift pushed up over her hips, loosened her grip as they both began to catch their breath.

After a few minutes had passed, Blink rolled over, buttoning his fly. Evie pushed her skirt back down and they both lay on their backs, staring up at the sky. Silence seemed to settle over the whole city like a heavy blanket.

The moon shone down, seemingly all-knowing, and Blink sighed. He closed his eyes and let his head fall back on the cement of the rooftop. Shaking his head, he spoke. "Zacharias Ezekiel Erickson."

Evie rolled onto her side, propping her head up on her hand. She took the sight of him in for a moment, then furrowed her brows as she realized what he'd said. "...What?"

"Zacharias Ezekiel Erickson. That's my name."

* * *

Morning light filled the dormitory of the Duane Street Newsboys Lodging House, and it being a Sunday, Kloppmann let the boys sleep in. Most of them, out of habit, rose at their normal time, and as they did, they all crowded around Blink's bunk.

"You think they..."

"'Course they did."

"I don't think they would."

"I'm surprised we didn't hear 'em."

"I _did _hear 'em."

"You'se a liar."

"So?"

Blink opened his eyes, confused by the sound of voices. "Dammit, what're you'se guys doin'? It's Sunday."

"A better question, Blinky my boy, would be what _you're_ doin'." Racetrack smirked at him, his trademark cigar dangling from dry lips.

Blink looked over to see Evie curled beside him, asleep with her head resting serenely on his shoulder. He quickly snapped into reality, and pulled the blanket up to cover them both. "Mind yer own damn business, fellas," he said, and the boys scattered, snickering.

* * *

**A/N: Longer chapter! Hooray! I know the scene with Blink and Evie makin' sweet sweet luuuuv was kind of... floofy... but I didn't want to make it too terribly graphic. Hope you guys like it... and I hope you all realize the importance of this chapter:)**

**Please R&R, it'll make me feel special. And I like feeling special. Har. -Layne**

**P.S. As much as I hate casting calls... I need a couple of girl characters to be Evie's friends. Rich girls, and such. I want them to have some significance, and I don't have the time right now to make up new characters. Sooo, if you want to lend me a character, send me a PM or give me a profile of her in a review. I assure you, you will be fully credited. :)**


	6. Chapter 6

Evie sneaked in the gates of home in the early-morning light, climbing back up the lattice and through her bedroom window with as little noise as she could make. Feeling that morning-after glow and a comfortable, satisfied, sleepy haze around her head, she hoped to climb into bed and sleep away most of the afternoon, though she would be neglecting church.

"I can't even begin to imagine what people would think if they saw you coming home at this hour, dressed the way you are."

Evie gasped, tumbling in the window and landing, splayed and twisted, on the floor. Her grandfather loomed over her, menacing and obviously perturbed.

"I also don't believe I need to remind you of the impropriety of staying out all night, especially under the impression that you were with that newsboy your maid told me about." As she stood and tried to collect herself, her grandfather's hand made sharp contact with her cheek. "Do not disgrace this family, Evelyn. I refuse to be embarrassed on account of your misadventures."

She sat down on her bed, holding a hand to her stinging cheek. As her grandfather turned to leave, she finally got the courage to speak. "Is that all you came here for? To yell at me?"

"Unfortunately, that seems to be all our little visit is good for. I came by to tell you that there is a young man both your father and I agree would be an acceptable suitor for you, but given all that is implied by your being gone all night with such scum as a newsboy, I doubt any decent man would want you."

"I believe I'm capable of finding my own husband, thank you anyway."

"A rather unconvincing argument, if I've ever heard one." He opened the door, stepping out. Looking over his shoulder, he smirked. "You'll be meeting him this afternoon for supper. I expect to see you looking your best. And for God's sake, don't embarrass me by looking like the two-bit tart you do now."

Evie opened her mouth to retaliate, but the door clicked shut. She kicked at the foot of her vanity, but all that resulted in was a hurt toe. Feeling defeated, Evie slid down to the floor to cry.

* * *

The afternoon was unbearably hot and irritatingly dusty, but Blink was chipper as ever. He was sweaty and dirty and disgusting but that didn't stop him from longing for a certain warm body to curl up to.

Here he was, down to his very last paper of the day, waiting in the middle of the marketplace as had become tradition. People swarmed about him, seeming to swim through the air so thick with heat. He looked about for a familiar face, but she was nowhere to be found. She was late. But not to worry; she was probably just held up by something at home.

He waited around for a few more minutes, then headed off in the direction of Evie's house. As he approached the gate, he noticed a young man helping Evie out of a carriage.

"Evie!" Blink waved in her direction, and jogged up to the gates. "Hey, Evie!"

The young man scowled at Blink's dirty face and ragged attire. "Can we help you with something?"

"I... I was just sayin' hello to--"

"I'm sure Evelyn has got better things to do than to spend her time carrying on with the likes of _you_," Evie's companion sneered and helped her down from the carriage steps. "If you'll excuse us, we'll be going now."

Blink looked in confusion from the young man to Evie, about ready to cry. Evie shook her head and mouthed, "Not now," and headed up the steps of her house on the arm of the snob she was with.

* * *

**A/N: To clear up any doubts, I AM ALIVE. I've been awfully busy lately and have had no time to update fics, but I have time now, so here I am! Huzzah! Interesting little twists were needed, so that's where we're at now. I'm curious to know what y'all think, so let me know! -Layne**

**P.S. CASTING CALL:I'm still in need of a few random rich-girl characters, if anyone is willing to loan me some. :) Evie needs friends.**


	7. Chapter 7

The afternoon was hot and painstakingly slow. Normally, Blink would have been headed for home by this time of day, but here he was, standing in the middle of the marketplace, still calling out the day's mundane headlines. At least ten newspapers were still tucked under his arm, taunting him, mocking him for his inability to sell them.

"I'll take one of those," a voice from behind him said. He spun around to meet familiar, sad, Irish-whiskey eyes. "Provided that you're still willing to talk to me."

"I ain't decided yet on that one, but I can't afford to turn down a sale right now." He pulled a paper out and handed it to her. "That's a penny. Page three ain't bad."

As she handed him a coin, Evie sighed. "Listen, Zacharias."

"I don't remember sayin' you could call me that."

"Fine. Blink. Listen, it's not like I wanted to be with him."

"You didn't exactly look like you was fightin' him off." With his jaw set and his mind ready to fight, he looked her over. "Who is he?"

"William Browne Post. My grandfather set us up. Um, his father built the World Building."

"La-dee-da, Evie. You didn't answer my question. _Who is he_?"

"According to my grandfather, he's my fiance."

"Uh-huh. Look, Evie, I gotta go. I got work to do. See you around."

"My family's making me do this, Blink, I don't want to."

"Then _don't_, Evelyn. It's as simple as that." He turned on his heel and began to walk away, tears threatening to take over.

"I don't have a choice!" Her cry sounded against his back, and he barely glanced over his shoulder as he answered.

"Sure you do." And he lost himself in the crowd.

* * *

As morning came, the Manhattan newsboys were already crowded around the distribution center. The voices of a hundred teenage boys mixed with the sounds of the streets to create the comforting cacophony that was New York City. But amid all this was a sound that was rather out of place this early in the morning: the distinctive ringing of a bicycle bell.

Blink stood with Racetrack, Jack, Pie Eater, and Mush, reviewing and joking about the day's headlines. An officeboy, his clothes clean and pressed and his face scrubbed, apprehensively approached them, looking clearly out of his element.

"Any of you boys call ya'self Kid Blink?" The boy attempted, and failed, to cover his thick New York accent with a holier-than-thou attitude.

"'Pends on who's askin'," Racetrack replied with a sly grin.

Blink merely elbowed Race lightly in the ribcage before folding his newspaper. "That'd be me. Whattaya want?"

"I, uh..." He stuttered, suddenly aware of all the unfriendly eyes that had by now realized someone new was on their turf. The boy cleared his throat, straightened, and went on. "Mr. Pulitzer would like to see you in his office as soon as possible."

"He would, would he?" Blink flashed an easy grin, making a show of stacking his papers neatly and looking around at his comrades. "Maybe I'm gettin' me a raise, fellas." And with a chuckle from the newsboys, he followed the glorified messenger down the street.

* * *

**A/N: Not much to say here. I kind of like this chapter! I've got a good start on the next one, so keep your eyes peeled for a new chappy! And please, R&R! -Layne**


	8. Chapter 8

Blink knocked softly on the heavy wooden door, stepping into the expensively decorated office. Joseph Pulitzer sat regally at his desk, motioning for the young man to come in.

"You, uh, wanted to see me?" Blink shoved his hands into his pockets and looked around nervously.

"Yes." Pulitzer stood, staring Blink down as he did so. "It's come to my attention, young man, that you've become rather familiar, and inappropriately so, with a particular young lady of this city."

Blink swallowed. "Uh, yeah, I guess... Mr. Pulitzer, I don't see what this has to do with you."

The publisher chuckled, but did so without any humor. "Oh, it's got everything to do with me." He poured himself a drink, and then turned to look the newsboy directly in the eye. "What is it they call you, again?"

"Kid Blink, sir."

"That's not a name." After taking a sip, Pulitzer set his drink down.

"It's what they call me."

The older man sighed and shook his head. "Fine. Now, you see, _Kid Blink_, what this has got to do with me is that this young lady you've familiarized yourself with, Evelyn, happens to be my granddaughter."

Blink swallowed, though his mouth was suddenly very dry. "But... that's not possible." He shook his head, hoping it was all just a bad dream and he'd wake up soon enough. "Her name is Harris."

"Is that what she told you?" Again, the humorless laugh. "Harris is her mother's maiden name. She is my son's daughter." He grinned as he looked Blink up and down. "Now, she's been saying how in love the two of you are, but if that's true, why would she lie to you? Especially about something as small as a name?"

"She probably--"

"What, wanted to protect you? My dear boy, Evelyn thinks of no one but herself, and one can only guess what she was trying to achieve by lying to you. The most probable answer is that she simply needed someone to lash out against her family with." Pulitzer shook his head and sat down. "I'm aware that Evelyn has been... _deflowered_, presumably by you, but who knows. In short, young man, I would like to inform you that Evelyn will be married and off my hands in just a few months' time, and you are not to engage in such improprieties with her again."

Kid Blink opened his mouth, unsure himself whether he was going to protest or defend himself. Pulitzer just smirked dryly and shook his head.

"You will not be seeing her again. Are we clear?" Cold eyes stared the newsboy down, getting no response. "Well, that'll be all then. I trust you can see yourself out."

"Look, you can't make Evie--"

"I said that will be _all_, young man, you are excused."

"But she doesn't--"

"Get out of my office!" Pulitzer shouted, punctuating with a fist coming down on the hard wood of his desk.

* * *

Blink spent the majority of the day down at the docks in Brooklyn, sitting on the edge of a pier and staring blankly at the water. He felt empty and angry, prepared to take it out on anyone who dared cross his path. He nearly back-handed a young newsie who came up to talk shop, but settled for a severe tongue-lashing. The little boy ran off in fear and embarrassment, and now Blink was sorry. He'd half to go to the Brooklyn lodging house sometime soon and apologize. 

It was dark now, and the streets were mostly empty, so it was the perfect time to head home. He walked along, shoulders hunched against any friendly passersby. About halfway to Manhattan, he kicked a rock in the street that stopped at the feet of a very drunk and very irate Morris Delancey, who promptly answered it with a slew of profanities and a swift fist to Blink's face.

_Great,_ Blink thought. _The perfect ending to the perfect day._

_

* * *

_

**A/N: Longer chapter than I usually do for this fic! Jeeze. I like it though. I'm kind of so-so about my Pulitzer, but hey, he's a douchebag and that's all there is to it... am I right or am I right? So anyway, I hope you enjoyed it, I'll have you know I have THREE DIFFERENT REVIEWERS for this story, and no one seems to comprehend how FREAKING EXCITING THAT IS. GEE I LOVE CAPITAL LETTERS. Anyhooters, please R&R and I hope you have enough patience to wait for my next chapter... but if you don't have enough patience, and you MUST get your pennylayne fix, you could always read _Lean On Me_! (end shameless plug) I love you guys! -Layne**


	9. Chapter 9

Days had gone by without much to speak of, and Blink's black eye was slowly healing. He'd decided to return to his usual selling spot in the marketplace more out of habit and the fact that all the good selling spots were taken rather than an actual desire to be there.

The headlines today were good, detailing the pardoning of some Jew in France who'd been accused of treason and something called espionage, and Blink, being the cunning salesperson he was, had twisted it around, saying there was a criminal, a madman, loose on the streets. With this, the newspapers practically turned into cash on their own in his hand. Who cared if France wasn't anywhere near New York?

It was a good day. A _very_ good day, Blink thought to himself with a self-assured grin. There was even a group of girls from one of those rich-folks' schools taking an interest in him, which only boosted his view of the day. Of course, Blink had had enough of rich girls, but a man couldn't help but appreciate a pretty girl when he saw one, so Blink merely tipped his cap and kept his distance, wandering through the square with a cheery whistle on his lips.

Until one of the schoolgirls decided to make a move.

"So, is he dangerous?" Blink stopped dead in his tracks. He hoped, he prayed that it was just a girl interested in a newspaper, but still found himself incapable of turning around.

He cleared his throat, pulled off his cap and scratched his head nervously. "Is, uh, is who dangerous?"

"This criminal-gone-free you've been yelling about all afternoon." A familiar hand landed on his shoulder, warm against the September air. "Blink, talk to me."

"Evie, I ain't even s'posed to be lookin' at you."

"And since when do you do anything Joseph Pulitzer tells you to do?"

"The man could have me thrown in the refuge for even bein' anywhere close to you." He turned around, looked pleadingly at her. "Evie, really, I can't see you no more."

"Then why did you save your last paper for me?" She pulled the newspaper from his hand, replacing it with a penny. "We need to talk, Blink, _please_."

"I can't. Not here, not now." He shoved the coin into his pocket, glancing around the marketplace for anyone who might give him grief.

"Then let me meet you tonight. At the lodging house."

"Look, Evie, I don't know if that's such a good idea."

"Nothing we've ever done has been a good idea. That's what's so great about us, Blink. Ten o'clock, on the roof." And she turned to walk away.

"Evie, I--" But she was gone, lost in the crowd.

With a sigh, Blink headed cheerlessly for home. His good day had taken a particularly sour turn, but at least he'd sold all of his papers.

* * *

It was a celebratory night at Duane Street, the newsboys being so grateful for such spectacular selling that day that the greater part of them had pooled their earnings toward a night of general rowdy drunkenness.

Blink sat slumped in a chair in the common room, a glass of cheap beer in his hand. He was irritated, depressed, and more than a little intoxicated, and was staring intently at the clock, wondering whether he'd actually go out for his little meeting or stay put and probably give in to unconsciousness before the night was through.

"Blinky, my boy!" Racetrack's words were slurred slightly but still mostly comprehensible. This was a night of fun and mischief, and a sullen, boring Blink just would not do. "Drink up, get happy!" He landed a friendly punch to Blink's shoulder, but in his mild state of inebriation, the punch was harder than he intended and nearly knocked Blink off his chair.

"Ow, Race!" Blink rubbed his shoulder, and when Racetrack pointed to the glass, he begrudgingly lifted it to his lips and glared at his comrade over the rim. "You happy now?"

"Don't be such a sour-puss, Blinky," Skittery chimed in, his voice unnecessarily loud thanks to the low-priced liquor. "Why're you in such a bad mood lately?"

"You're one to talk, Skitts," Blink grumbled, standing up. He glared at the grandfather clock across the room, and set his drink down on the table with a nervous exhale. "I'm gonna go get some air." He started up the stairs, hoping his bad attitude wouldn't come back to bite him in the ass in the morning. If anyone were coherent enough to remember the evening, that is.

"Ya want me to come with you?" Mush, possibly the only sober one of the group, turned his friendly eyes to Blink. "You don't look so good, pal."

"Nah." Blink shook his head, heading up the stairs. "I'll be alright."

* * *

**A/N: I'm really very proud of this chapter. I love it. I was going to make it longer, but I decided to be mean and force you to STAY TUNED for another rooftop rendezvous... of a different sort! Ahhh. Anyway, my lovelies (aka all _FOUR_ reviewers, read 'em and weep!), you know what you're supposed to do! I love you all! -Layne**


	10. Chapter 10

"I wasn't sure you'd show up." Evie walked to him as soon as he got his balance from getting off the ladder, pulling him into a warm and all-too-uncomfortable embrace.

"I wasn't either." Numb to all his surroundings, Blink pushed her arms away from his neck. "Off."

She sighed, brushing a stray lock of hair out of her face. "Blink, it's not like I chose for all of this to happen." When she earned no visible response from him, she decided it wasbest just to go on. "I don't want to be married off. I don't want to be worth nothing more than an appealing dowry. But I don't have a say in the matter.

"Girls like me, we don't marry for love. We marry because our families have money, and it's a good businessventure to merge with another family with money. I'm bred to breed, basically, no matter where myownheart and my interests mightlie."

"That's not the problem, Evie," Blink snapped, still continuing to stare coldly at that perfect face.

"It _is_ the problem. You're angry because you think I'm just casting you aside. You think I love William, you think that I just wanted to throw your life around. You're angry because you can't have me allto yourself."

He barely resisted the urge to slap her, very nearly raised his hand. "No. I'm angry 'cuz you lied to me. 'Cuz, for some reason, you couldn't be yourself with me. 'Cuz you made me love you, and now that's all just gonna go away and there ain't a God-damned thing I can do about it." Alcohol mixed with the blood raging in his head, pounded in his ears. He could hardly see straight, which frustrated him, and he wanted her, which downright infuriated him.

"You think that's one-sided? Do you honestly think that with the time I've spent with you, the... the _things_ I've done with you, thatit all means nothing, that I don't feel anything? I'm being forced out of this too, Blink!"

Before either of them could say another word, their mouths met in a clashing of teeth and tongues, the ferocity of it pushing both of them far away from any semblance of reason. They soon found themselves pressed against the chimney, skirt hiked up and suspenders unhooked, forgetting all possible onlooking neighbors. They took one another, fast, fierce, passionate in angst and frustration rather than love. It ended quickly, leaving them both to crumple to the cold, hard cement, breathless and unfulfilled.

"We can't do this anymore." Blink's voice was as ragged as his clothing as he let his head fall back against the brick of the chimney, his inebriation preventing him from feeling the harsh contact. "I can't do this anymore."

"I should probably go home." Evie stood, straightened herself, looking at him expectantly. All she wanted was for him to tell her to stay, to lay in his bed like she had weeks ago, to curl into his body as if it were what nature intended.

"Yeah, you should."

Evie was long gone by the time he finally decided to climb down the ladder. Loud, happy voices and clinking glass could still be heard from downstairs, so Blink stood in the dormitory alone. He bathed in freezing water, in the pitch-black of the washroom, and, pulling on clean britches, collapsed into his bunk to sleep off this nightmare.

* * *

**A/N: I'm aware of how short this chapter is. But it's not the kind of thing where you can change the scene in the same chapter, it kind of has to be on its own. A new chapter will be along shortly, but I have to pay some attention to my other fic, so you will just have to bask in the glow of this for a little while. R&R, yadda yadda yadda. You know. -Layne**


	11. Chapter 11

Blink woke before everyone else in the dormitory. He was still feeling used and abused, but with the always-pleasant bonus of a vicious hangover. He tried to turn over to find a cool spot on his pillow and only succeeded in falling from his top-bunk perch to the hard, unwelcoming floor, causing Racetrack in the bed below his to sleepily punch him in the shoulder and go back to sleep.

Muttering some very creative (and probably impressive, were anyone awake to hear him) oaths, he squinted against the harsh dawn and stumbled into the washroom to drape himself over a toilet and miserably review the previous night's festivities. He heard some half-wakened voices complaining about the noise he was making, but at the moment, didn't give a damn.

As his stomach settled, Blink leaned back against the door of the stall and found blurry visions of his rooftop encounter with Evie there to greet him. Groaning, he tried to clear his head by shaking it vigorously, but that only resulted in further aggravating his nausea.

He groaned and reluctantlyleaned forward to start the whole unpleasantprocess again.

* * *

Across town, Evie lay awake and alone in her bed, as she had been since she'd climbed in through her window late the previousnight. She rolled over and caught sight of herself in the mirror of her vanity, saw a face she didn't quite recognize. She saw sad, angry eyes and a pathetic face, blotchy with tears, framed by disheveled hair and surrounded by luxury she didn't want nor deserve.

She was no better than a whore, she thought, just like her grandfather loved to tell her. But he was the one who made her so. She was being sold to the highest bidder, married off to someone she didn't even know, let alone love.

She sat up, finding herself sore, and rose to go bathe, to scrub off the grime of the night before.

* * *

The bright sunlight of the late afternoon found the pair standing beside a building in the marketplace, silent and avoiding eye contact. Each had sought the other out for the purpose of having a serious talk, but neither of them knew what to say.

Several minutes passed before Blink could muster up the courage to look at Evie.

"I love you."

Her head snapped up, brown curls bouncing at the sudden movement."Um, I love you too, Blink." She smiled, her eyes softening with his display of sentiment.

"No, it ain't a good thing. We ain't s'posed to love each other." He sighed when her face fell and he shook his head, pushing his hair back from his forehead. "People like you and people like me, we don't belong together. We ain't even s'posed to be _friends_. What're we doin'?"

It was Evie's turn to sigh this time. "I don't know," she mumbled, going back to staring morosely at the ground. "I loved what we had before everything happened."

"Yeah, but things was gonna happen in the long run anyway, so it wasn't gonna last long." He looked her up and down, that face, that figure that he used to spend days and nights happily picturing but now tormented him. "And now here we are, you're gettin' married to some fella who's got tons of money but prob'ly couldn't find his own ass with a map, an' I'm stuck bein' a newsie."

"We've got a while yet, Blink," Evie offered, biting her lip and looking shyly up at him. God, that _face_.

"Not really," he muttered back, shuffling his feet in nerves.

"Blink, I--" she started, but was cut off by her personal maid, Louise, climbing out of a carriage and rushing over to them.

"Miss Evelyn, we been lookin' all over the damn city for you. You was s'posed to come right home after school." Louise looked Blink up and down and scowled, turning back to Evie. "We got things to do. We gotta go to the dressmaker and figure out your weddin' dress, an' what with your mama and daddy comin' home tomorrow, we got lots of things to tend to at the house. Can't have you wastin' time in the streets, 'specially talkin' to fellas that ain't your Mr. Post." Again, she turned her eyes on Blink, cold and condescending despite her servant status. "Bound to get you into all kinds'a trouble."

Evie looked from Louise to Blink, a blank, confused look on her face. She obviously had more to say to him, much more, but was terrified to say them in front of Louise. Staring, she silently pleaded with him to figure out a way to get her out, to drag her away from her life even for a little while. But whether he was able to read her face or not, he frowned.

"You should go, Evie."

Evie climbed, or rather, was shoved, into the carriage and watched as she and Blink traveled in different directions. She sulked when he was finally out of sight, resigning herself to listen to the _clop-clop-clop_ of the horses' hooves on the pavement.

Heading home at a considerably slower pace, Blink grumbled to himself, frustrated that his problem was still unsolved.

* * *

**A/N: I'm aware these chapters are ridiculously short. But I don't believe in putting in crap just to make things longer. I don't like to B.S. my way through things. So, unless things require a lengthy explanation, short chapters are what you and I will have to deal with. Oh well. Anyhow, the reviews just keep piling up for this story, and I really couldn't be more excited. Seriously. Thank you all so, so, SO much. And thank you to Rustie73 for plugging me in her story, Strawberry Day, which I beta'd and I have to say, is completely fantastic. So now that you've gotten your pennylayne fanfic fix (try saying that three times fast...) of the day, either go read that story or curl up with a bowl of popcorn and watch _Newsies_, which is my plan for right now. Thanks for reading, I love you guys, and please review! Enjoy! -Layne**

**P.S. To all you fathers out there, if there are any,happy Fathers' Day! And for those of you who aren't fathers, please remember to give your daddies a big hug and thank them for being who they are. :)**


	12. Chapter 12

"Blink!" An obviously very excited Boots came racing down the stairs of the lodging house just as Blink was walking in the door. "Hey, Blink! Spot Conlon's been teachin' me how to shoot a slingshot _just like him_, an' I'm gettin' _real_ good at it! Wanna see?" Those big brown eyes nearly bulged out of that cocoa-colored face, dancing with delight. "Come on, ya wanna see?"

"Not now, Boots." Blink dragged his hat off his head, mopping the sweat from his face with it; it was a bad habit he'd gotten into and couldn't break, and was very slowly ruining his cap. "I'm busy," he mumbled, over his shoulder to the little boy as he went trudging up the stairs. He felt badly for being rude to Boots, but there was a terrible headache tugging at the backs of his eyes, and he didn't want to be around anyone at the moment.

"Oh... Okay, Blink, catch ya later." And Boots stood forlornly on the bottom stair for a few minutes, before the door opened again. His ecstatic voice rang through the whole lodging house. "Skittery! C'mere, I got somethin' to show ya!"

* * *

Upstairs in the washroom, Blink pumped water into the free-standing bathtub. He undressed slowly, painstakingly, his body still dragging from the morning's hangover. As he lowered himself into the water, his body reacted to its near-freezing temperature, but his mind didn't seem to care. As he leaned against the cool, chipped porcelain, he tipped his head back and closed his eye, exhaling long and slow like he'd been holding his breath for days.

* * *

When he finally opened his eye again, the early-evening light was fading into dusk, and for some reason, ice-cold water was hitting his face. Shaking his head to clear it, he realized he was still in the bathtub, with Racetrack standing over him, splashing him.

"Oh, so you didn't drown or nothin'?" The Irish-Italian's crooked-toothed grin broke out, seeming to take over his whole face like it always did. "Damn, so that means I can't have first crack at your stuff." He pulled a ragged towel from the closet and set it next to the bathtub, shaking his head. "You been in that damn tub for hours, Blink. You never take more than a few minutes. What's goin' on?"

"Nothin'," Blink replied as he got out of the tub and dried off with the pathetic towel. After he pulled on a pair of britches, he rubbed his hands over his face. "Just fell asleep, I guess. Been awful tired lately. Dammit, Race, you got water under my patch." Turning his back to his friend, he took off his eye patch to dry it off.

"Bullshit."

"What, you didn't get water under my patch?"

"No, bullshit that you're tired." Racetrack stared him in the face when he turned back around, causing Blink to avert his gaze and pretend to be interested in what was going on outside the window. "You been all glum an' shit for a couple'a weeks now. It ain't like you, Blink. Somethin' happen with Evie or somethin'?"

Blink sighed, knowing that there was no lying to Racetrack. Racetrack was the ultimate cheater, the perfect liar. You just couldn't pull one over on him, no matter how hard you tried. "Yeah, somethin' happened with Evie or somethin'," he replied finally, "I guess."

"So, what happened?" Race leaned against a sink, crossing his arms over his chest – his listening pose. When Blink just stood there, dumbfounded, he tossed a wet, dirty rag at him. "Come on, spill the beans, Blink."

And so Blink explained the whole situation to Racetrack, from Evie's impending marriage to his encounter with Pulitzer. When he was finished, Racetrack nodded.

"Well, Blink, I don't know if I can tell ya anything you're going to like," he said, clearing his throat and looking down at the floor. "If I were you, I'd just give up. Fightin' against Pulitzer's an uphill battle, an' we're all still exhausted from doing it once. She's movin' on, I guess that means you gotta move on, too."

Blink scratched his head, coughing awkwardly. "Problem is, I don't want to. I mean, I do, I want to bounce back from this like I do everything else, but at the same time I want to hang onto it. I don't want to let go yet."

"I know, pal, but when you're one of us, you can't afford to hang onto things."

Blink shrugged, gathered up his clothes, and went to bed, knowing Racetrack was right.

* * *

**A/N: Well, I really, really like this chapter. I figured we needed to delve a little more into Blink's reaction to the whole dilemma. There isn't a whole lot to talk about here, I guess, so it looks like you guys are getting off easy with a short author's note. So, um, please R&R, and I hope you liked the chapter! -Layne**


	13. Chapter 13

"A _newsboy_?" Evie's mother threw up her arms in a rare loss of her always-perfect composure. "Of all things, Evelyn, did you _have_ to get _involved_ with him?" She leaned her arms against the table, burying her face in her hands. "If you wanted to rebel, couldn't you have done something _simple_?"

"I wasn't 'rebelling,'" Evie shot back, glowering. "This isn't about getting back at the two of you for anything. It's not some ploy for attention. I lo--"

"Evelyn Patricia, if you dare say you love this... this street-rat, so help me, I will beat you into oblivion." Patrick Pulitzer slammed his snifter of brandy down on the table, nearly cracking the crystal. Evie's grandfather, ever present, just sat back and watched the show, smirking. "Whatever this game is that you're playing, it is _over_. Consider yourself defeated."

Evie opened her mouth to argue, but her father only raised his voice. "Do not argue with me! It's time you learned to be a lady, and a lady does not speak back to a man, especially not her father." He sighed a took a long drink of his brandy, color from the fiery liquid flooding his cheeks. "I expect you to have this affair out of your system by your wedding night."

"And how do you propose I do that?" Evie sat back in her chair, sulking. "God knows William Post has nothing to offer me but more money for you and my grandfather."

"Get up," her father snapped, rising from his chair. She stood, hands clenched at her side, glaring at him defiantly. "You are a married woman, Evelyn, show some respect for your husband and your family!"

"I'm not married yet!" Evie's temper boiled inside her, and she felt her blood rising to her head. "And how am I to show respect when I'm practically being sold to a man I don't even _know_, just so you can make money?"

Her father strode over to her, his eyes burning. Without a word, he raised his hand, the back of it striking Evie's cheek with such a force that it knocked her over. As her head cracked loudly against the table, a pair of servants rushed in to find out what the commotion was.

Patrick lowered himself back into his seat, taking another deep drink of brandy. "Get her out of here," he said to the servants with a cool wave of the hand. "I don't want to see her face again today."

* * *

**A/N: I'm aware this is the shortest chapter in the history of mankind, but it's very important. I couldn't just move on from this event to something else. It needed to be by itself. I know you can all understand why. Please R&R, and I hope you like it. -Layne**


	14. Chapter 14

"Blinky my boy, we're goin' out." Racetrack combed his hair, parted in the middle, and straightened his suspenders. "Medda's puttin' on a special show for us."

"Well, you have fun, Race," Blink said, leaning against the window frame and smoking.

"No, you're comin' too, pal." Race put a hand on his shoulder and reached up to affix a hat on Blink's head.

"Thanks, but I don't feel much like--"

"Don't make excuses. Me an' the fellas, we got a present for ya."

Blink stubbed out his cigarette, tossing it to the ground below. "That's real nice of ya, Race, but I just don't feel like goin' out."

"Blink, shut the hell up." Race grabbed him by the arm and dragged him out the door.

* * *

Irving Hall was packed, practically from floor to ceiling. By the time Race and Blink arrived, Medda was already into her third song, but it made no difference to either of the boys. They made their way to the center of the floor, where several newsies waited at a table.

Blink said his hellos, then noticed the girl sitting at the table.

"Blink," Race said, "This is Delilah."

Delilah greeted him with a smile. She was pretty; she had a lovely face with a look of innocence, but her outfit and the roughness to her voice betrayed her. Blink looked closer, examined her makeup – he knew exactly what she was.

He looked around at his friends, baffled. They just grinned back at him. Delilah stood up and took him by the hand. "Would you like to dance?"

"No, thanks. I'm not much for dancing."

"Blink! Where are your manners?" Racetrack scolded him. "The lady wants to dance with you."

Delilah dragged him out to the dance floor, where he swayed with her awkwardly for a few minutes. After a while, she pulled away, looking him dead in the eye.

"What?" Blink tried to find a place to focus, anywhere but on her face.

"Whattaya say you and me go find someplace more private?"

"I, um..." He looked down at his shoes. "I'd really rather--"

"God, how do your friends _stand_ you?" She threw back her head and laughed. "Come with me."

She led him through the crowd and to a deserted hallway, through a door into what used to be a prop room. Closing the door, she was on him.

Under the makeup, her lips were dry and rough, used too many times by too many people. Calloused hands ran over him, through his hair, over his trousers, undid the buttons on his shirt. He stood outside his body and observed the situation, noticed how out of it he was and how her moans were as fake as her smile.

She pulled him to the floor, tugging his shirt and suspenders free. Ready and waiting, she whispered foul-mouthed things in his ear as she unbuttoned his trousers – but nothing happened.

Angered, Delilah stood up. "What the hell is this!" She yelled, stomping her foot.

"I-- I, uh," Blink stammered, propping himself up on his elbows.

"I'm the prettiest girl in the whole God-damn city! What's wrong with you? Everybody wants me!"

"You ain't the prettiest," he mumbled, then prayed she hadn't heard him. But she had, and she stormed out the door, leaving him half-dressed and very confused.

* * *

Outside, it was cool and quiet, perfect conditions for Blink to walk home alone. He was angry; angry at Delilah for yelling at him, at himself for being completely incompetent, and at Racetrack, for thinking getting him a two-bit whore was a good idea. _It's the thought that counts_, chimed a little voice in his head. Yeah, but who the hell thinks, _Gee, my friend is down, I'll get him a hooker to cheer him up_?

Fuming, he kicked at a rock and headed for home.

* * *

**A/N: Poor Blink. The guy just can't catch a break, can he? Jeeze. Well, I have the next chapter all plotted out, and it was going to be part of this chapter, but then I decided it'd be better as two. So here you go. **

**Guh. It's been such a productive day for me... I'm completely exhausted. I wrote two chapters of Lean On Me, one chapter for this fic, and an entirely new fic. I think I'm breakin' records here! I think I'll try and shell out one last chapter and then take a break. But you guys are all fantastic, and I love you. I'll love you even more if you leave me some reviews! Thanks! -Layne**


	15. Chapter 15

"Blink?"

He stopped in the middle of the street, hoping, praying that he was just hearing things. He didn't need any more, not tonight... he just wanted to go home and go to bed.

"Blink, it's me."

Blink looked up at the sky, mouthed, "Why me?" He turned around to face Evie. "What're you doin' out this late?"

"Going for a walk... I needed out of my house." She shrugged, walking up to where he stood in the light of the street lamp.

He examined her face, saw the huge bump on her forehead and light-purple bruise on her cheek. "Jesus, what happened to you?"

She looked back at him. "I could ask the same of you."

"Whattaya mean?"

"You're covered in lipstick." She pulled out a handkerchief, and started wiping at his face and neck. "Looks like you've had a good night."

"I wouldn't say that." When she looked at him quizzically, he shook his head. "I don't want to talk about it." He pushed her hand away, wiping off the rest of the lipstick with his sleeve. "Seriously, Evie, what do you want?"

"I'm getting married in a week."

"Well, congratulations. I'm sure the two o' you will be very happy together." Blink continued walking home, and Evie followed. "Maybe you can just roll around in your piles of money all day, and stop every once in a while to kiss your grandfather's ass."

"That's not fair, Blink."

"No kidding." He buttoned his shirt up to the collar, the chill in the air starting to get to him. "Honestly, did you come all the way down here just to tell me that you're getting married?"

"I wasn't really expecting to see you. I was hoping to, though." She jogged up to him, trying to keep up with his brisk pace.

"What the hell for?"

"Would you stop? Or at least slow down?" He turned into an alley and leaned against a wall, looking at her impatiently.

"There. Happy? Explain."

"I can't get you out of my head." She stood in front of him, desperation in her eyes.

"Welcome to my world, Evie."

"How am I supposed to be a wife to another man when I'm still so hung up on you?" Evie placed her hands on his chest, happy to feel the familiar warmth coming through his shirt. "How am I supposed to move on?"

"That's funny, I been askin' myself the same question."

She pressed her lips to his, and this time he felt sweet, comfortable softness. He made a little noise of protest, but he was too exhausted to fight her off. And what couldn't happen in the prop room at Medda's happened right there in the alley, tender and sweet again though it was among the dirt and people of the street.

* * *

"We can't do this anymore." He'd said the words so many times they seemed to have lost their meaning. As he straightened himself out, he looked at Evie, found her nodding.

"You're right." She smiled, though tears swam in her eyes. "It's about time we gave up."

"Yeah." He nodded, biting his lip. Damned if he was going to cry in front of a girl.

"So it's over?"

Blink sighed. "Yeah, Evie, it's over."

She sighed as well, wiping her eyes. "Okay." She placed her hands on his cheeks, leaving one last soft, sad kiss on his lips. "I love you."

And she was gone, leaving Blink in the alleyway to wonder if it really _was_ over.

* * *

**A/N: -sigh- It makes me sad to have written this. And there isn't much for me to say here. I hope this chapter makes you feel the way it makes me feel... Let me know what you think. -Layne**


	16. Chapter 16

A week had never gone by so fast in all of Blink's life. He'd kept himself busy, both on purpose and by chance, and had managed to keep Evie off his mind for the most part. But on Saturday, he found himself selling newspapers with Mush next to a church, where a big apparently to-do was going on.

"Wonder what's goin' on in there," Mush said over the sound of the bells as he handed a paper off to a man. Blink, not thinking, shrugged.

"Dunno. Looks like a big deal, though." Calling out the headline, Blink turned his back to the church just as the doors opened.

Mush looked over at the front steps of the cathedral, then walked over to Blink. "Let's go find us a new sellin' spot, huh?"

"What're you talkin' about, Mush?" Blink pocketed several coins. "There's lots of people here, we're makin' good money!"

"I just think we should go find somewhere else to sell," he said, taking Blink's arm.

"Have you lost your marbles?" He looked at Mush, laughing a little. "What's wrong with you today, pal?"

Blink turned around to call out the headlines again, then saw the couple coming down the front steps of the church. "Evie."

Evie stopped on the steps when she saw him, and started to wave, then stopped. They could see one another reminding themselves that it was over, and trying to ignore the fact. Forcing the biggest smile she could muster, Evie turned to her new husband and headed toward the waiting carriage.

Blink stood, frozen in his spot, letting his newspapers fall to the ground. Mush quickly picked them up, and slipped an arm around his friend's shoulder. "Come on, buddy," he said quietly. "Let's go home."

As Blink walked away, toward the lodging house, he decided he could no longer stay in New York.

* * *

**A/N: Yet another ridiculously short chapter... I'm sorry for that, but this is an extremely importantevent and couldn't be thrown in with anything else. And I realize I said I was done for the day, but I'm seriously "in the zone" and can't stop. I have plans. Brace yourselves. Anyway, I hope you liked it. Please review! -Layne**


	17. Chapter 17

It was a couple of months before Blink was able to save up enough money for a train ticket. It had been especially hard for him to save because every now and then, he'd see Evie in the street with her husband, and he'd have to go blow two or three dollars getting piss-drunk just to forget. But now he had the money, and while he wasn't anywhere near ready to leave his friends and his life behind, he knew it was now or never.

He'd spent the night before celebrating and saying goodbye to his friends, and had just gotten rid of the terrible hangover it had produced. Now, he stood in the lobby of the Duane Street Newsboys Lodging House, shaking hands and giving hugs for the last time.

"You sure you gotta leave, Blink?" A wide-eyed Les Jacobs looked up at him, sadly.

"Yeah, I'm sure, Les." Blink ruffled Les's hair, looking down into those big, helpless brown eyes. "I'm sorry. I'll be thinkin' about you, though."

"Where are you goin'?"

"I'm not sure yet. I was thinkin' maybe New Mexico, or maybe even California. Someplace warm, and far away."

"Are you ever gonna come back and visit?"

That question tore through his heart. "Um... maybe. Maybe someday, if I get real rich workin' out West, I'll come back and visit you. Okay?"

"Okay, Blink." Les wrapped his arms around Blink, squeezing tight. It took all of Blink's strength not to break down and cry.

Race and Mush walked over to Blink, each clapping a hand on his shoulder. "I'm gonna miss you guys," he said, his voice getting a little thick. "But I promise I'm gonna learn to write real well and send you guys some letters, huh?"

"Sounds good, pal," Mush said, pulling him into a hug.

"We'll be watchin' the post." Racetrack shook his hand, then pulled a long cigar out of his pocket. "I bought this for ya... it'll give you somethin' to do at least for a little while on the train, and when you smoke it, I want you to think of me, okay?"

Blink laughed, loud and strong. "Whatever you say, Race."

* * *

After saying his goodbyes for what seemed like the eight-hundredth time, Blink set out with one of Race's cigars in his pocket, Skittery's walking stick in hand, Spot Conlon's beloved key around his neck, and one of Jack's _Western Jim_ novels in his ragged suitcase. He couldn't have thought of better going-away presents. Taking one last look back at what he'd called home for longer than he could remember, he headed off in the direction of the train yards.

When Blink was just a few blocks away from the train station, he heard a commotion in an alley. Knowing this would be his last opportunity ever to do so, he walked down it to check out the source of the sound. A grinning prostitute strolled past him, giving him a knowing nod. He peered around a doorway to find a very familiar man buttoning his trousers.

"What the hell are you doing?"

The man looked up. "What the hell do you think I'm doing?" William Post straightened his clothing, wiped lipstick from his mouth with the back of his hand. On a closer look, he smiled. "Oh, I remember you. You're Evelyn's little street rat, aren't you?" He laughed. "Here to sell me a newspaper?"

"Ain't you got a wife at home to take care of what that hooker just did?"

"I have a wife, yes, but the damned wench won't let me anywhere near her since our wedding night. I don't worry about it much, though, seeing as I'm not missing a whole lot with her." He shrugged. "She's just not worth the trouble of trying."

Something inside Blink broke. He dropped his suitcase and swung the walking stick at William, hearing a satisfactory _crack_ as it landed across his teeth. Before William could even think to fight back, Blink had pounced on him and was beating him with the stick and his fists.

William's head collided with the brick wall behind him, and he slid down to the dirty ground, unconscious. Blink, however, didn't take this as a sign to stop, and continued beating him while he was down. It was several minutes before Blink stopped and let his vision clear, and it was then that he realized William wasn't breathing. Blink felt his chest, his throat; there was no heartbeat to be found.

Panicked, Blink scrambled back, staring in awe at William Post's lifeless body. He'd promised himself he'd given up on Evie, and now, he'd just killed her husband. In a rush of adrenaline, he grabbed his suitcase and ran toward the train station.

* * *

Sinking into a seat on the train, Blink leaned his head against the window. The conductor passed by, stopped, and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Are you all right, son?" The elderly man had a kind face that reminded Blink an awful lot of Kloppmann.

Blink stared at the man for a few seconds, then nodded. "Yes, sir. I'm fine now."

As the train pulled out of the station, Blink stared down the road he'd run from, at the bleak, painful past he was leaving behind, until it disappeared from sight. Then he looked forward at the tracks, and his brand-new life in the sunshine of the West Coast.

He realized then that he had gotten what he'd wanted: Evie was no longer a married woman, and he was finally free. Free from the pain of his first love, from the brutal streets of New York, and from the scrappy, struggle-to-survive life of a newsboy.

Things were going to be okay.

* * *

**A/N: You're all going to hate me, but this is where our story ends. Not every story can have a happy ending... but not every unhappy ending has to be completely tragic. I'm happy that this story falls comfortably between the two. I know the ending seems kind of abrupt, but that's the effect I was going for. I want to thank you all for reading. Your reviews and your support have kept me going very strong throughout this story, especially one of you in particular - you know who you are. I hope all of you have enjoyed this story in its entirety, and I really hope you'll come back to read more of my work. Thanks again, guys. And keep carryin' the banner. -Layne**


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